In celebration of their 50th anniversary, my parents-in-law decided to basically be guided by their life philosophy: torture your children.
Only this time they're doing it in beautiful surroundings. They're taking children, children-in-law (including yours truly) and grandchildren to Cabo San Lucas for a little bit of back-biting, in-fighting and discussion of appliances, home improvements, lack of quality in domestic help, and other pressing issues of the day.
I get to spend all week around my wife's brothers, with whom I work, and my father-in-law, who comes into the office because he likes to, and whom I try to avoid. I predict that business will be discussed at every family gathering, much to the consternation of people with any sense. I further predict that few sentences will go uninterrupted.
It's not seemly, I know, to whine about an expense-paid trip to Mexico. So I'll stop.
On the plus side, all our kids, and all nieces and nephews, will be on hand, and they mostly like each other a lot. All the kids are now old enough to entertain themselves for long stretches of time. And our oldest daughter will have her older cousins, and her best friend (poor girl), to misbehave with.
My wife and I may even get time alone -- something at which we have no experience, since she was a single mom when I met her. The prospect is tantalizing, and panic-inducing.
I will attempt to post dispatches from the tropical front, if I can gently pry my tequila-marinated brain out of the beach chair and into the hotel's "business center."
It'll be like going to the office in a bathing suit.